Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Blood And Tears

Ordinarily, I faint at the sight of blood. Or I freak out. Or both. You would think that I would be all the more the likely to do both when the blood that I'm looking at has drenched the front of my little girl's shirt and puddled in the palms of her wee outstretched hands. Thankfully, on this occasion, I keep my wits about me. I manage to stay upright and conscious as my baby girl, not quite three years old, throws her bloodied, sobbing self into my arms and dribbles blood-streaked mucous down my back.

MOMMY *sob* I JUMPED *sob* BUT *sob* I FELL DOWN AND I HIT MY *sob* MOWFF!

I put her down and she opens her mouth to show me. Blood dribbles down her front, a thick red stream of slobber that drenches her shirt. Her tears streak down her face and wash little trails through the red stain on her chin. I wobble, a little, and swallow the cry of alarm that is burbling up in my throat.

AND NOW I'M ALL *sob* MESSY!I drop to my knees in front of her. If I'm going to pass out I might as well be close to the floor, and in any case, I need to check to see whether she's knocked all her teeth out. I take a deep breath to steady myself. Open your mouth, baby, I say. I need to see inside your mouth. I need to see your teeth.She opens her mouth. Blood dribbles out over her bottom lip and splashes over her chin before dropping in midair, suspended in a thick trail of drool. I stretch out my sleeve and catch the gob, and then use the sleeve of the other arm to dab at her bloodied mouth. This is how I know that I am a parent: I do not faint, and I do not recoil at having my clothes soaked in blood and spit. I pause for a moment to marvel at that fact - I've seen this girl bloodied before, many a time, but not nearly so dramatically, and I wouldn't have thought that I could handle it - and then scoop her bloodied little body into my arms and carry her to the bathroom.

I soak a washcloth and dab the blood from her mouth.

ARE *sob* ALL *sob* MY TOOFS *sob* THERE?

Yes, sweetie. They're all there. The washcloth turns red in my hands. I rinse it under the tap and squeeze it out. I dab her mouth again, and rinse again; dab, rinse; dab, rinse. The cloth gets pinker, the water runs clearer. I can see that she's cut her lip. This is how I know that I'm parent: her blood doesn't rattle me, now that I know she's safe, but this tiny wound cuts me to the quick. My heart seizes at this little injury, this tiny marker of her vulnerability. I kiss the tip of my index finger and gently press it to her lip. We'll make it feel better, sweetie, I say. We'll make it better. I pause and press her hand to my heart. You scared Mommy.

How I know that I'm her parent: I let her. I clasp her little hand and, together in our blood-stained shirts, we march back into the playroom and she climbs back onto the sofa and then - still grasping my hand - flings herself into the air. And I catch her. And then we clutch each other in a mess of blood and tears and snot and I whisper into her hair, don't do that again when I'm not right beside you, okay? I don't like it when you get hurt.How I know that she's my daughter: she puts her little hand against my heart. And I don't like it when YOU get hurt, Mommy. She presses gently. I be careful. Then she pulls her hand out of mine and climbs back onto the couch, and - grinning a mad, blood-streaked smile - jumps again.

In this moment, in this bloody, messy, painful moment, I love being a parent. Blood and tears and pain and all, I love it.

59 Comments:

Oh I know these moments well. My little man is a dare devil and doesn't know when to stop. The sight of blood always stops my heart with him. But it is funny how certain things we can go through that we used to not be able to .

Motherhood does something to you when the things that would cause you to shun any other normal person...snot, spit, drool, blood, pus, pee, poop, lots and lots of poop...makes your heart quake because it comes from those of your body. Because, in essence, it's YOUR snot, spit, drool, blood, pus, pee and all the lovely poop.

Oh, cuts in the mouth or on the lips are the worst! They bleed so much. But what you say is true. I thought I'd never be able to deal with this side of being a parents, but I've never had a problem. I quietly freak out on the inside when he gets hurt.:)

Oh my, yes....We mammas are the bravest most battle hardened souls. We hold our babies in our arms and stay strong for them when we would otherwise pass out or wimp out. Motherhood gives us that strength. I think of what your sister has endured and what strength she has needed...so many other mothers too who's babies have wounds that are oh so serious and scary. I can only imagine.

A well-written post--the heart of a mother is so strong and so tender at the same time, isn't it?

I tend to freak out a bit when my son is crying out of control and bleeding. It's always been that way.

Last night he tripped over his own boat sized feet (he's 13 now) and couldn't catch himself as he went down.

He came downstairs crying and freaking and I was amazed that this time I kept my cool and talked him through it.

This time I talked him through a very short meditation to calm himself and his blood flow so we could see what was going on.

His thumb nail bed is completely black and blue but luckily has a little blood draining ... he went to basketball practice last night because he was afraid his coach would give him shit, "so ya broke a nail huh?". So I think he'll live this time ;-)

Blood, tears, snot, pain, hurt (oh the hurt) is what parenting is all about - it may not be beautiful all the time, but it is always amazing. Of course that only applies if you are an amazing momma, which you are.

I have been a fan of your blog for two years now but I have to stop reading your blog during my daughter's nap time! Almost every entry wants me to just gather my little one in my arms and hug her tight before she wiggles out and runs away from me. I haven't had to deal with blood yet but I hope that I'm as calm as you.

OMG! I am so bawling right now. My pregnancy horomones just don't do hurt babies well, whether they're mine or someone elses. I'm glad she's ok and I'm glad you're ok. You are very brave to let her jump again. I would have tied her butt to a tether in the floor so she couldn't do more than stand...at least I wish I could some days. My boys are just now walking and the bumps and falls are just starting for me. Yikes!!

Yes, head and mouth injuries bleed A LOT. Also, I thought my daughter was a daredevil and got hurt a lot until I had my son and he grew into a toddler and now a preschooler. Yeah he gets hurt way more often...and often on the mouth.

I get so in a tizzy when I read your posts. I just wanna come hug you and I am not a hugger. I'm not as bad as Melissa but definitely, I"m not a hugger, but it seems, that you need some hugs. Anyway, I going to tell you that I had no intentions of bringing this subject matter up to you when I came here but when I read your post and you had managed to deal so well with the blood and stuff....well, I was hoping you might be in a different frame of mind, lol.

So, could you play along with the delurking game tomorrow, I have badges and codes on my blog if you would just do this one thing for me, I would definitely send you a cyber hug and oh, by the way, someone would have been needed to clean me up off the floor if there was that much blood. When Walker got his two front teeth knocked out, I looked at his teeth, look at my husband and said, "here, you do something and I went back to my computer chair to pass out.

So, see, you are a strong woman, you just didn't know you had it in you did you? Bah, you knew it all along!

A similar incident landed me and my sweet boy in the emergency room a few weeks ago. The mouth injuries are brutal! Would you believe I actually changed him out of his pj's and chose an outfit for him that wouldn't show the blood? Yes. That is calm for you. Or a little insane with the priorities.

Sometimes, when my two year-old hurts himself in a minor way, like by tripping and falling, and he comes to me crying, I almost enjoy the chance to hold him and comfort him, because I know that I can completely restore his happiness with a cuddle. And that won't always be true. But for now, I relish these moments, even with the tears.

That right there sums up what every mom feels - when they need you, you will do anything - ANYTHING - to make their world right again. Nobody can make it better like mom can make it better - once everyone is on the mend, then....and only then....do we fall apart...but very select few get to see that part...Thanks for putting it so eloquently...

I love being a mom so much! I have to say, during the day when you get all pissed off at life or other stupidities, all i have to do is close my eyes and see my little boy doing what he does best, being silly and cute, and an instant smile comes on my face. then for some reason all the other stuff doesn't matter so much any more!

wow - what a beautiful story! I just found your blog and am enjoying reading your stories, especially since we will be trying to start our own family soon. It's good to read about what it's really like, the ups and the downs!

oh. i'm crying. that was perfect. my little one fell the other day and bit open her upper lip in two perfect half-circles. it was horrible for both of us. you really hit the nail on the head right here. thank you.

Oh, mouth wounds bleed TERRIBLY. I remember Pumpkinpie's fall that was also a small cut, but I thought she might have put her teeth right through her lip, the way it was gushing.

(And for me, it was the moment that I reached out to catch vomit, handful after handful, that made me realize the same thing - I must be a mother now, because I sure wouldn't have been able to do THIS before! And certainly not without vomiting myslef.)